Smosh Fic- His Eyes are Open but Where's the Light
by DeangirlSam1212
Summary: This wasn't meant to be taken as an Ianthony fanfiction, but you could think of it that way if you wanted to. Ian stays up late one night editing while Anthony is out partying. The next morning, he sleeps far too late for Anthony to be comfortable with, but he can't seem to get him up. He has always been a heavy sleeper. (Just recently edited)


**Author's note: This is all in anthony's pov, just saying this becuase I couldn't find many places to say his name. **

I made breakfast for Ian that morning because I had felt bad that he had spent the whole night video editing without me. He had even told me he wasn't feeling well, but I really had to go to a special gaming rendezvous that I had promised Pewdiepie I'd go to with him before he returned to Italy. The whole meeting was awesome and fun but I still couldn't get my mind off of Ian.

He really didn't look too good when I had left, he was a lot more pale then usual, and I saw the exhaustion in his eyes when he told me that he could video edit just this once on his own, and that I could go over it when I returned.

But, I had come home to find that Ian was no longer at the computer. I thought he had probably finished early and was in his bed sleeping at the moment, so I decided to leave him alone and go to sleep as well.

The next morning was no different then that night, and Ian was still in bed, and so I decided to make pancakes because God knew how much he loved pancakes, and soon, they were done and the smell was wafting throughout the whole house.

I knew that eventually, that smell would begin to seep into his room and he would soon be up and gulping down the delicious sweet treat. I thought that I might as well get his plate ready while I wait, so I begin to pile pancakes upon pancakes onto his plate, and then came the syrup. After I was done with them, the pancakes were practically being drowned in the sweet substance.

After, I sat the plate down at Ian's side of the table, and sat in wait on my side, for him to wake.

Pretty soon, five minutes turned into ten and ten turned into twenty. It became much too long a wait for me, and I have always been impatient as hell, it has pissed Ian off more then once. I decided to go wake him myself.

I quickly sauntered over to his room and opened the door. Ian was, indeed, there, laying on his covers, sleeping, like he had predicted, but... he was so incredibly still. I gently shake him. He is so cold. My fingers are beginning to lose all the feeling in them. just from touching Ian so long. His eyes are open as he sleeps and I find that weird. His blue eyes are staring over to the side, where his head is turned. But, his eyes seemed to be completely unfocused, and I can't figure out why he's not looking at anything. Not even me when I wave my hand in front of his eyes.

I think he is mad at me for leaving him yesterday, because he won't move. I still faintly smell the pancakes that are waiting for him in the kitchen, and it surprises me, how he doesn't even flinch at the obvious scent of breakfast.

"Dude it's time to wake up," I say again for the umpteenth time.

But, he still won't look at me. His eyes haven't moved at all since I walked in the room. For some odd, stupid reason, I don't think that his eyes are the same bright blue at they usually are. They are dull, and grey. Unseeing and...dead.

Some people in strange suits suddenly burst into the once unbearably silent room. I realize that I must have called them awhile back, I don't know, I don't remember very much of anything.

They suddenly wrap their strong arms around me and pull me away, telling me to exit the scene and that they had it covered.

I told them no, that they were being foolish and were only making a scene, but still, they drag me away. I reach for him, asking him to wake up, please, I don't want him to be mad anymore. I promised that I'd stay and help him edit next time. I'd even do it all on my own, if only he'd wake up.

Soon, though, there was nothing else to say, they had dragged me from the room, and now I was standing outside in the driveway. Waiting for something, someone, I don't even know why. Ian was just sleeping, why is everyone crying. I look around and see familiar faces around me suddenly, and somewhere in my mind I think that I should remember the names for these faces. But I don't.

A few approach me, speaking words that I can't understand, but eventually they go away. Then, suddenly, they all stop talking to me and everyone falls silent and turn towards the door.

I don't have to do that, because I have been staring at the door the entire time.

The door is suddenly opened and a strange man in a large black suit appears, and it surprises me when I see that he has Ian in his arms. Ian is limp in the man's embrace, his head is hanging to the side, facing away from me so I can't see his face, but his skin was so pallid in the light, that it was almost blinding to look at.

What had I told him, he needs to get out in the sun more. A good tan would do him good.

The man walks by me, then, I get a good look at Ian's face. His face hasn't changed, still as emotionless and dull as when I'd last saw him.

His eyes were still open, and they still weren't seeing. I wonder why he's still ignoring me. I try to smile at him, try to make him crack because it's all a big joke, I know it is, but he doesn't show any sign that he knows I'm there. All I can do is watch as the man in the black suit carries him away and puts him inside his big, white truck, and they drive away.

That is when, everyone begins to leave. I stay here and wait, because I know it's not nice to leave people alone when they are at your house, so it was only polite to wait until the last person finally left. Then, I went inside.

I waited by the telephone because I knew that Ian would call me soon. He wouldn't just leave me hanging and confused, he would have to explain what was going on to me sooner or later.

Hours it must have been. For hours I sat in wait, and eventually, I did get a call. I grabbed the phone quickly, but it wasn't Ian that was on the line, but instead, it was some overly professional sounding woman, giving me the address to somewhere, God knew where, but somewhere in my mind, I must've known what she was talking about, because, soon after, I found myself sitting in the car, pulling out of the driveway. I drove, that's all I remember, just driving. My mind was fuzzy, my eyes were unfocused. My body was there, still going through the motions, randomly driving to anywhere the signs told me to go, but my mind was too congested to tell where I was going. Pretty soon, thirty minutes had gone by, and I suddenly came out of my trance, and looking around, I realized that I had no idea where I was.

At some point, I must have called someone to come get me, because, soon after, one of those familiar faces showed up beside me. Telling me to follow them to...God knew where, But I followed.

Once I was back out on the rode, my eyes began to get unfocused again. Down to the point where I could only make out the muddy outline of the car I was meant to follow.

Then suddenly, I big white building joined the car. My car stopped right next to the building, and the familiar faces led me inside of it. Ian was there again, inside this white building. Inside this strange room, where everything was cold and where the smells constantly stung my nose.

I looked at him, and I realize that he are even more pale then before. I look at the blanket crumbled at his feet, and realize that he must be cold.

I feel all the familiar faces watching me as I walk over and bring the blanket up and over his body. As I set the blanket down, my fingers graze his skin, and I gasp, jerking back in surprise at the iciness of his skin. Even colder then this morning.

He is no longer limp, I see. I grasp his frigid hand in mine, and it seems to be made of stone, it was so stiff. I complement him on how strong he was, but he doesn't reply. He never does anymore, anyway, so I didn't expect anything else.

His eyes were still open, were still unseeing and dull, still as grey as they were that morning, and still just as dead.

I tell him I have to go now, because he was really hurting my feelings, how he never spoke to me anymore, but walking outside the room was a big mistake. I was suddenly bombarded by a strange woman in a white suit. Talking to me in a serious voice, that I wasn't used to.

She was talking about random stuff, all I really heard were words like asthma attack, and closure, and such. I don't know why she was talking about all that stuff, but I kindly told her that I must be going right then, and she excepted it, so I went on my way.

And for days after, I stay in my house, going as normal, waiting for Ian to come home. It had been awhile now, and I was still waiting, he never called or texted me. I keep texting him that he needs to get home soon, because we still had 'Lunchtime with Smosh' to film. Apparently, he couldn't get home soon enough to help me film the episode, so I was forced to do it alone. It was incredibly lonely and boring, but I tried my best to be bright and cheery for the fans, but I still missed Ian having to ask me to find twitter questions. I hope he gets home soon because I don't like doing it by myself. It feels cold and I felt so scared when I filmed it for some reason.

Scared that he wouldn't come home, because he had forgotten about me, but it was stupid, I knew Ian would never do that to me, he is too good of a friend to just ditch me like that.

I was uploading that very episode when the phone suddenly rang. I went to pick it up to find it was another one of those weird voices that I thought I should've known the name of, but oh well, she was giving me another random address that I was supposed to go to. So, again I was stuck driving in the car again.

Luckily, my brain seemed to have been working, because I eventually arrived there, where I met up with that familiar face again, I very soon recognized her voice from the phone and knew I could probably trust her.

She lead me into the brick building we stood in front of. Walking me to some room at the end of the hall, and inside this room was a man. He had gentle white hair, with a low, calm voice, he had a relaxing vibe to him, but just being in that room with him gave me the exact opposite effect. I didn't like him, he was talking to me like a child, and he was saying stuff, trying to make me believe the things that I had tried so hard to push away.

His voice whispered and tangled up within my soul, murmuring words about Ian, and what was okay to do, and what was not okay to do. I felt my eyes become wet in frustration.

Why wouldn't this man leave me alone?

Why is he doing this to me?

But, soon, the session was over and I then found myself back home where that wandering voice couldn't reach me.

So, I just went back to my normal schedule: waiting for Ian to come home, but it wasn't long until the phone rang again, with another random person giving me some random address that I was supposed to go to.

I really didn't want to go this time, I was tired of driving, but I didn't want to make a scene, so I drove to the given place.

People, the faces, I couldn't even say they were familiar anymore, they were strangers.

They all stared at me as if I were some freak, some monster. I pushed through this crowd, there was something I needed to reach, I didn't know what, but whatever it was, was past this crowd, past these people and over to where it was slightly more quiet then anywhere else.

Nobody stopped me as I pushed past them, all they did was stare, every single one of them. Some even parting for me to pass, as if they knew I needed to escape them, and find this...thing that I searched for.

Then, suddenly, I broke free, and I didn't see anymore people in front of me.

There was a box though.

This box sat upon a large piece of stone, which then stood upon the luscious blades of grass below it.

The box was open, and I could find that my feet could not move faster then the almost snail pace that I moved, but it was fast enough for me.

It was silent now, as if the people behind me weren't talking, though I knew they were, I could no longer hear them.

I could no longer see anything except that box that stood so broadly in front of me.

I thought that I could almost hear the blood pounding through my ears, and everything was moving in slow motion.

But, apparently, that wasn't true, because I suddenly found myself standing over top of the box and peering inside it.

Ian was there, inside the box, but weirdly, I couldn't find it surprising, as if I knew that Ian would be laying there, inside that casket this whole time.

I looked down at the blue, Forget Me Nots that Ian had been lain upon.

They were all crowded around his face, mostly and then gradually lessening as they traveled down his body. I smile down at him, "They bring out your eyes, they really suit you, it was a good choice," I tell him. Again he only stares back in reply.

His eyes are still open, looking exactly the same as they did before, dull and grey, and unseeing.

My gaze slowly travels down to his chest. I sigh, I can almost pretend that it was rising and falling as it used to, and as I look at your eyes, I can almost pretend that your looking back at me, almost...but it was hard, and I couldn't pretend anymore.

I could feel warm liquid begin to trickle, slowly down my face.

I smile, reaching up to his cold, cold face, I let it hover there for a few moments, before slowly lowering it to finally close his eyes.

"Rest now, man. You've worked hard." I whisper, watching my tears fall onto the black suit that he had been dressed in, absently hoping that he could keep them, somehow, in remembrance of me, his best friend, something that he could hold onto forever.

I whisper my farewells, telling him that I would see him later, and I turn away, and I drive home.

Knowing that I didn't have to wait anymore.


End file.
